


Day of Sex

by Cards_Slash



Series: Arabian Stallions [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Anal Sex, Just Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cards_Slash/pseuds/Cards_Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik and Altair take a day to have sex and make bets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day of Sex

Malik looked best sleep rumpled and undone with a stream of sunlight slashed across the sweat-shined expanse of his skin. His head thrown back and his shoulders pressed to the bed, his back in a slight arch as his muscles quivered-and-shivered just under his skin. He looked good with a worried little moan at his lips, with the pink of his tongue just visible behind the white of his teeth. 

Oh God, he looked good with his legs sprawled open and his knees pushed open. He felt good under Altair’s hands—the solid length of his thighs, the way the slick hair caught between his fingers as he rubbed them. The press of his fingers threaded through Altair’s hair as he petted him with errant touches and mumbled compliments. 

And when he looked back down his own body, eyes half-closed and face flushed, he looked something like sin. “How were you ever straight?” he said like he was being strangled. His foot pressed against the bed and his hand slipped down from Altair’s hair to his shoulder. 

Altair pulled off his dick, ran his tongue up the length of it, traced a circle around the tip and then moved back enough to admire his handiwork. Malik was panting against the bed, soaked with sweat and shivering on the verge of breaking (hopefully). His dick was thick-and-hard and blushing up red with a tasty little pearl of white at the tip. Altair licked it away, pulled his knees back up under him and took a moment to stroke Malik’s dick. “I’m starting to wonder that myself.” 

Malik was rocking up against his hand, trying to make him move faster or harder and just-to-be-an ass, Altair stopped moving his hand altogether. He smiled when Malik dropped his head back against the pillow and muttered a curse at him that would have made their ancestors shriek in objection. 

“Aren’t you technically bi?” Altair asked.

“Technically, I just like sex,” Malik said. He managed to recover himself and look nonchalant and calm—not at all like he hadn’t been writhing under Altair’s mouth and hand only moments ago. “I’m currently more into men than women.”

“Lucky for me,” Altair said. He sucked on his thumb, soaked it in spit before he dropped it down between the easy sprawl of Malik’s legs. There was a suspicious glare at him for what he planned to do and Altair grinned at Malik with all the innocence he could muster. He rubbed his thumb—slippery and slick—against the space behind Malik’s balls and watched the way it made him squirm before he relaxed and looked unimpressed. “What about your brother?” he asked. He wasn’t looking at Malik’s face anymore, but down at his dick still pulsing in his hand, at the heavy fullness of his balls and just beneath the tight, pink pucker. 

“Do not ask about my brother during sex,” Malik said. He used his right leg to hook around Altair’s back and dragged him back down to his dick. His hands were both in his hair, petting and ever-so-slightly pushing. Altair wasn’t allowed-to-bite or he would have sunk his teeth into the meat of Malik’s thigh for it. Instead he licked another wet stripe from the base of Malik’s dick to the tip and gave it a wet kiss. He slipped lower down, pressing wet kisses against his balls, take one of them in his mouth to suck at it a moment (because it made Malik jump and curse at him) before he pushed both of his hands against Malik’s thighs and shoved them up toward his chest. Malik grunt at him but didn’t object so Altair pressed the flat of his tongue against his hole and felt how it tightened down.

He considered his options—this wasn’t something that he’d done before. After the first night it wasn’t even something that Malik did to him very often so he didn’t have a variety ideas of what was meant to happen. 

“It’s not rocket science,” Malik said from somewhere above his own knees. “But if you can’t figure it out, why not put your mouth back where it’s happiest?” 

Altair slapped him for that, not hard enough to do more than turn his skin slightly pink. Malik moaned again and wiggled impatiently. Oh-but he moaned when Altair had his tongue on him again, pressing it hard against his skin and dragging up from his tight-little hole toward his balls and then back. Again-and-again before he flicked his tongue back and forth across him and traced a circle around his hole. 

“Oh shit,” Malik was saying. He had his hand on Altair’s hand trying to make him jerk him off faster. Altair tightened his fist on him and nearly got kicked in response. “I hate you,” Malik said. He was squirming again, rocking his hips to press back against Altair’s mouth and up against his hand. There was a quiver in his thighs and his moans were getting higher-and-tighter and more breathless. 

Altair licked his way back up to his balls and sucked one of them into his mouth, jerking his hand up and down Malik’s dick in a way that was too slow to get him off and reaching back to press his thumb against the slippery-wet clench of his hole hard enough that he almost-pushed inside of him. 

“Oh fuck you,” Malik cursed and rocked forward to grab Altair by the arms and yank him up. “You win, please, please, please, please, please.” He was chanting the word as he rolled them over and shoved Altair against the bed. His face was flushed and his mouth was brilliant red. He kissed him with all the aggravation of his hardly-wounded pride. Malik was an expert, a professional (one might say) and he had Altair spread open and was rutting down against him before Altair had enough coordination to wrap his arms around Malik’s back. “Your stupid mouth,” Malik growled at him.

“You shouldn’t have bet against me, Al-Sayf.” He meant it to sound smug-and-haughty but it came out breathy instead. It was easier to ignore how fucking much he wanted to come when he was intent on driving Malik past the point of insanely high tolerance for stimuli but now he was clutching at Malik’s body and wrapping his legs around him to drag his fast-thrusting hips close enough to feel the drag of his dick across his skin. 

Malik’s hand was in his hair, tugging his head back and Altair moaned as he kissed-and-licked-and sucked on his neck while he fucked against his belly until he came with a desperate sounding moan. He was enough of a gentleman to remember to jerk Altair off before he collapsed completely boneless against him. 

After a minute they broke apart to be separate bodies and laid in their mutual stink to enjoy the moment of golden glow. Malik rubbed at the spots of come on his stomach and said, “what did we bet?”

“Sex on the couch,” Altair said.

“God, you’re a child,” Malik mumbled. He rolled up onto his side and kissed him though, said something about his mouth and sin and then collapsed back where he had been. “Give me an hour and I’ll fuck you stupid.”

“You can try but I know how to break you now.” He felt contented and brilliant and didn’t even care when Malik elbowed him in the ribs.

\--

They did not put on clothes because they seemed entirely optional in the privacy of his house when they had budgeted the whole of the day to fuck as many times as they possibly could. Altair laid on his couch as naked as the day he was born watching mid-morning cartoons about superheroes while he waited for Malik to finish taking the world’s longest shower. The bastard had declared the guest bathroom to be his and had taken to using all the hot water whenever he showered and showing zero regret about it.

Altair waited patiently. Then impatiently. Then he retrieved a bottle of lube and the condoms from the table by his bed and came back to sit and try to concentrate on the cartoons. He was doing the world’s least convincing job paying attention to some caped crusader (or another) as he held the bottle of lube between his chin and chest and contemplated exactly how he wanted to make use of his victory fuck. Because he was a fan of watching Malik’s face when he fucked him, and he was a fan of Malik’s hands all over him and his breath against his back, and he was a fan of the way the blankets always rubbed his knees raw but he was also a fan of being able to kiss Malik. 

His dick was a fan of anything, interested in every idea that he came up with. He rubbed his hand up and down his slow-thickening dick while he thought. There had to be some kind of tie-breaking fantasy that would help him decide how he wanted to fuck on the couch. It had been months of bed-bound fucking and weeks of slowly working up to defeating Malik’s iron-will when it came to sex. He felt like he must have sprained his jaw giving the bastard blow jobs on repeat for weeks just to figure out the best plan of attack. 

The lube was still cold when he squeezed it on his belly, still cool when he rubbed it on his dick and deliciously room-temperature when his fingers slid low to rub against his own hole. He closed his eyes and thought about Malik leaning over him, about his voice when he made dirty-filthy promises about how he was going to fuck him until he begged. Thought about his fingers when they pressed into him, about how he knew how to turn him into putty. Altair pressed one finger in and bit his lip, it was an easy slip in-and-out, a familiar sensation of being taken overlapped with the tightness and heat of his body around his finger. It was distracting to feel both things and he wiggled into a lower slouch, put one of his feet on the edge of the couch and pulled his other knee up so it was against his shoulder. He pressed another finger in with the first, pushing as far as he could manage and pulling them out until just the tips were still inside. He went slow, in-and-out, thinking about how Malik could fuck him at a slow pulse for an infinity until Altair had nothing but confusing murderous-slutty thoughts and found himself threatening Malik’s body while begging for his dick. 

He wasn’t solving the problem of how to collect his winnings when he pushed another finger in with the first two. It was a tight-pinch of a stretch that was awkwardly tight around his fingers but felt so deliciously good around Malik. He huffed in annoyance and opened his eyes again to look forlornly down his body at where Malik’s dick was not.

And the bastard was sitting right there, just to the side of his foot on the coffee table. He was dripping shower water out of his hair with a towel over his shoulder and a condom packet in his hands while he watched Altair finger-fucking himself. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Malik said. He was grinning-the-bastard. He tore open the packet and slid the condom down his dick while he smiled back at Altair’s angry frown. He leaned across him to kiss him on the lips and steal the lube from under his chin.

“You’re so kind.” Altair wasn’t blushing rosy from embarrassment. He just happened to have skin that changed colors around Malik’s knowing little smile. He pulled his fingers free from his body as Malik sat next to him on the couch and slicked up his dick. The lube was dropped to the floor and Malik reached over to drag Altair onto his lap by the thigh. “Isn’t this my prize?”

“So you don’t want to sit on my dick?” Malik said. He was rubbing his hand up-down Altair’s spine with a reverent touch before he slid low enough to rub his fingers across the slick-slip of lube and pressed just the tips of two inside of him. “What did you have in mind?”

“I couldn’t decide,” Altair admitted. He lifted up high enough to reach under him and hold Malik’s dick in place so he could sink down on him. There was a tight-stretch at first and then a glorious slide as he took him in in one smooth motion. Malik’s hands were on his hips, around his waist, pulling him back to lean against the back of the couch. If he turned his head and leaned down he could kiss Malik. 

It was Malik’s hands on his hips pushing him forward and pulling him back. It was a long-slow-torture as they kissed until they couldn’t breathe and Altair’s body was pulsing. He gripped his own dick with every-intention of jerking off hard-and-fast to take the edge off because he’d figured out just-recently he could come twice with Malik’s dick up his ass. “Wait,” Malik said.

“Why?” Altair whined. He leaned back into the couch, staring down his own body at the sway of his dick as Malik rocked him forward and then back. He was just-fucking-teasing him, one hand on his hip and the other dipping down to rub at the stretch of Altair’s hole around him. His arm was rubbing against the side of his dick and Altair rocked back harder against his dick—tried not to go any faster but shoved backward harder-and-harder until they were rocking the couch and it was squeaking in objection. “Please,” Altair said. He felt raw-and-used and he wanted-to-fucking-come but Malik was driving up into him with all the calm-and-collected self-possession that Altair hated-and-loved about him. “Malik, please.”

“What will you give me?” Malik said. He barely even sounded out of breath. His hand moved back up to grip the base of his dick and Altair felt like he was going to cry. 

“Shit,” Altair said, trying to drive his dick up through Malik’s fist and getting nothing for his efforts but two hands on his hips pulling him back down and Malik’s stupid smile against his skin as he circled his hips and ground his dick against Altair’s prostate until his whole body was shaking-and-jerking without his consent. “What do you want?” he said when he had enough breath.

“Guess,” Malik said. He was rocking Altair again, dragging in-and-out of his body while Altair grabbed both of his arms and tried very hard not to give into the impulse to just jerk off. 

“Drawing a blank,” Altair said. He was fumbling for some-any-kink and coming up blank. “Please,” he said again, “I’m so fucking close.” His fingernails were digging into Malik’s skin and the man sighed behind him and wrapped his hand around Altair’s dick and jerked once-twice and Altair was coming fast-and-messy. He relaxed back into place, soupy and pleasantly buzzed while Malik drew shapes in his come and waited for him. “What do you want?” he asked.

Malik looked innocent, “I just wanted to know what you’d say.” He slapped his hand against Altair’s thigh and pushed him so he lifted up and off. “What’s next?” It was his professional-sex-worker voice that he asked it with and Altair hated-it more than he hated anything in the world. “Don’t make that face,” Malik said.

“Don’t treat me like a burden,” Altair said. He flopped onto the couch and laid back so his head was against the plush armrest. The cartoons were still playing off the side when he spread his legs and motioned Malik up between them. “Use more lube,” he said.

“God, you’re so needy,” Malik mumbled. He retreated to find the lube and spread more of it on his dick and Altair. He crawled back up between his thighs and braced one hand on the arm rest and the other on the edge of the couch. “Permission to enter?”

Altair laughed at him because he was ridiculous and Malik grinned at him like he was a fucking genius. “Fuck me really hard,” Altair said, “if you move the couch two inches I’ll let you fuck my face again.”

Oh-hell and the gleam in Malik’s eyes was dangerous and beautiful. He surged forward and kissed Altair wet-and-hard before he was lifting up to guide his dick in. Altair closed his eyes with a sigh and ran his hand down Malik’s beautiful-fucking skin, felt the gentle rise and fall of his tight muscles all the way down to his belly. 

Malik took a minute to figure out the mechanics of how to fuck him hard and started slow-but-sure that ratcheted up in intensity with every-other thrust. They came together with bruising force, slapping together with crude, wet sounds and Malik’s deep moans. Altair put one hand over his head to cling to the side of the couch and dropped the other down to jerk off in counterpoint to the hard-thrust of Malik sliding back into him. 

Oh-God-he-couldn’t breathe and Malik’s hands were on his thighs holding him still as he just _kept_ fucking him. There was sweat on his face as he stared down at Altair’s body taking him and his skin was going pink from exertion.

Altair was shouting in surprise, coming all over himself without warning, and Malik looked at him disbelief as he slowed-just-slightly and then dropped back into a gentle rhythm of rocking as he cursed at the tightness of his body and the twitching pleasure in Altair’s belly-and-thighs. 

“You’re going to kill me,” Malik mumbled. He kissed him again and went still while Altair clung to him in a confusion of sensations. He felt used-and-bruised and overwhelmed but hungry-as-hell for more. He rubbed his dirty hands all over Malik and in his hair and sucked on his tongue and moaned when he felt his dick moving in him again. “Ready?” Malik asked with their noses touching. 

“Fuck yeah,” Altair said. He ran his hands over Malik’s back and down to his ass to pull him in tight and slapped both of his palms hard against his skin. It-may have been his imagination but he was sure Malik fucked him _harder_ when he did. Altair lifted his knees and tipped his hips so every-fucking thrust hit him just-right and Malik fucked him like an animal. 

“Going to come again?” Malik asked.

Altair didn’t even think he could but he started pulling at his dick while Malik licked his sweaty lips and watched. “Oh fuck,” he whispered when the orgasm started in his stomach and felt half-as-much like pain and it did pleasure, “oh shit, oh-oh-fuuuuck.”

Malik fucked him through it and came with his hips pressed tight against Altair’s body. He slumped forward and kissed him on the lips with an exhausted laziness. “You’re going to kill me,” he said.

“Feeling’s mutual,” Altair said with his arms around Malik. His legs were going kind of numb from being stuck in the air so long and he flexed his toes and waited for Malik to move so he could readjust himself.

 

\--

Malik measured the scratch marks the couch put in the floor with a God-damned tape measure after they woke up from their mid-morning nap. Altair crouched at his side and observed. “Aw,” he said, “you were so close.”

“Damn,” Malik said.

“Well you can always try again,” Altair said. “You know, not today. Or tomorrow.” He was delightfully sore all over his body and numb at the same time. It was a pleasant feeling but he wasn’t about to offer his ass up to be pounded like that again in the near future. 

They managed to get clothes on long enough to go get Thai from the place down the street and argued about movies at the Redbox before settling on some stupid horror movie and came back to lounge and eat and watch stupid movies. Malik rubbed his calves while they watched the movie and complained about the quality of the special effects while the people died brutal, bloody deaths.

“Hey,” Altair said when the credits were rolling and he felt well-fucked and well-fed and genuinely soup-like. “Am I ever going to be allowed near your brother again?” They had been dating for months. Now and again they’d even made it out of the house and into public places to be seen by people. Altair had introduced Malik to his cousins and by extension most of his family (because the cousins, they were not good at keeping things to themselves). Malik hadn’t officially met any of the parents but they knew he existed and all expressed interest in inviting him to casual family dinners. 

“I don’t know,” Malik said. He sighed and discovered a fascinating set of brown spots on Altair’s ankle to trace with his finger. “I’m probably making it more awkward that it should be. I mean, he’s my family—the only part of my family you can meet actually—and I know we hang out with your cousins.”

“Which neither of us have sex with,” Altair pointed out.

Malik snorted at that, “I’m very good at forgetting that, and then he asks about you or you ask about him.”

“If it makes you feel better I don’t want to have sex with your brother. I mean, I get it if he wants to have sex with me because I am a fine piece of ass. I’ll just let him down easy.” Altair smiled in a way meant to be disarming.

Malik said, “crush him like a bug.” He smiled too and it wasn’t nearly as disarming. 

“Ok, second uncomfortable question long unanswered. Am I ever going to get to fuck you? Not that I don’t enjoy being plowed by your incredible dick.” He stretched out along the couch and moved one of his legs off Malik’s lap. 

“I don’t remember you actually ever asking that one,” Malik said. He moved away so he was sitting against the other arm rest with his legs crossed in front of him. “Usually you’re just crawling into my lap asking to get fucked. Have you asked?”

Altair shrugged. “I think about it. Sometimes I forget that I haven’t said anything out loud. My ex-wife told me I had communication problems.”

Malik thought about it a minute. He looked like he was searching for a way to let Altair down easy, trying to figure out how much damage it would inflict on their relationship and contemplating allowing someone to fuck him in the ass. Finally he said, “Don’t interrupt me, let me finish this.” He paused long enough for Altair to nod, “clearly you’re aware that I perform various sex acts for money. One of the things I don’t do is bottom. I refuse to do it because I feel like it requires a great deal of trust and comfort with the person who’s fucking. At least, for me. I have done it before, it wasn’t terrible, but it’s not something that’s high on my list of fun activities. So I’m not enthusiastic about the idea of it.” Malik paused for a breath and then said, “but we can do it.”

“Wow,” Altair said.

“I’m a dick, I know,” Malik said.

“No. I just—maybe there’s something wrong with you. I literally daydream about your dick in my ass.”

Malik hit him with a pillow and Altair laughed at him. He threw the pillow back but Malik was crawling over his body again, sinking down to his elbows to crush him into the couch. All the sore spots of his body were going warm and comfortably reminded of just hours-earlier. “It’s lucky you found me then,” Malik said.

Altair cocked his head to one side and ran his fingers through Malik’s hair. “It’s lucky you found me, you mean. I do want to fuck you, but you can save it for a birthday present or something if it’s so tedious for you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Malik said.

“My birthday is next month.” Altair traced the line of his jaw down to the black patch of hair at his chin and then slipped to the back of his neck to push his hands under the collar of his shirt. “You can show up wrapped in ribbons and I’ll act surprised when you ask me to fuck you.” His brain was filling up with porn and his dick was making a valiant effort at staging a comeback. 

Malik kissed him and it was slow-and-easy, almost lazy. When he moved back he shoved himself back—up and out of arm’s reach. “I need more food if you want more sex.” He extracted himself from Altair’s grip and headed toward the kitchen. “Did you actually go shopping this week?”

Altair made a face at the very notion. “No!” he shouted, “we could go now.”

Malik’s answer was a series of slammed cupboards before he came back out to the living room and frowned at him. “How do you survive?”

“Take out?”

“I hate you more than I did five minutes ago. You would eat nothing but take out and still have the tightest fucking body ever. Get your shoes, I’m starving.” He was grabbing his own shoes and his wallet off the table mumbling things about how he hated Altair.

**Author's Note:**

> always interested in prompts, if anyone has any.


End file.
